The Book Man
by ivylei-67
Summary: During her fifth year, Ciara makes a rash decision which unleashes a chain reaction and changes her life forever.Along the way, she stumbles into one of Hogwarts oldest and most dangerous secrets and a man who has lost everything. Rated for language.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own none of the recognizable characters. Just borrowing.

A/N: I'm working on a couple of stories now, a little scatter brained, but I'm really going to try and finish them. All of them. This one has been inside my head for a couple months before I decided to just try and write it. And yes, I know this is really short, it's supposed to be that way. This is just the intro, Chapter 1 will be out really soon.

The Book Man

Prologue

My fingers splayed out against the cold stone and I leaned my body into the wall, trying to understand. I could've sworn I'd seen or at least felt something here, and -- yes, I could feel it now. Something warm against the palm of my hand, in just the one brick. I took a single step back from the wall and stared at it. There! A shimmering light pulsating in the center of the stone, a faint glow just barely visible, but it was definitely there. Or I was definitely insane. That was another option.

I touched my right index finger to the little light, and the moment contact was made, another light shone through a little to my left. Beneath my hand now was nothing but a plain, old rock. I moved and placed my hand on the second light -- only to have it move again! The pattern repeated and I found myself darting up and down the corridor, all along this strange wall, chasing lights. I didn't know what purpose it could serve, but the sense that there _was _a purpose was so strong that I kept on with it.

Night fell outside the castle and I knew that it was past curfew. If caught, I would be facing -- well I didn't really know what they'd do if they caught me out at night -- expulsion? Detention? Extra homework? It didn't really matter to me. I admit that the thought of Snape or that Umbridge woman coming around the corner and whisking me away to their office and the unknown horrors that await me there frightened me a bit, but I felt that the risk was necessary: I had no idea whether or not the little light would return if I wasn't there to catch it, so I stayed.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own none of the recognizable characters. Just borrowing.

A/N: Please leave some reviews people. Just tell me whether you like it, love it, or hate it because I don't want to waste my time on this thing if it's no good. This is only my second fanfic so it would really help to have some input. Here's the first chapter.

The Book Man

Chapter 1

Blood dripped steadily across the back of my hand, staining the parchment that that _woman _was forcing me to write on everyday for a week. The ink being my own rather painfully given bodily fluids. _I will not disrupt class with pointless opinions... _over and over again. Today was Friday -- just a few more hours and I could go back to Gryffindor tower and sleep. Over the course of the week, my homework had managed to pile up quite a bit more than I had hoped and my grades were slipping, but now I would have the entire weekend for that. All I wanted now was rest.

_I will not disrupt class with pointless opinions..._

Back at Muggle Primary school, the teachers had always encouraged our input and questions, saying that they were always open to discussion. Not Umbridge.

It was the first time I had Defense Against the Dark Arts with her, when Harry was telling Umbridge off about Voldemort. (Yes, I say the name. I have never managed to see the point in that particular fear.) I had decided to stand up for Harry after she had sent him away and -- Wham! Here I am now, finally at the end of this hellish week, cutting open my hand with this cursed quill.

I chanced a glance at the silver watch on my wrist and inwardly groaned. It was 12:30 now and Filch still wasn't showing any signs that he was going to let me go anytime soon. Umbridge was busy with Potter, so _I _was stuck with the mad caretaker who just happened to have a vendetta against all students. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him still watching me, staring avidly at the open wound on my hand with the same nasty grin on his face as he had had when I started. Issues. That man had serious issues. I highly doubt that such an obsession with the torture of children was healthy, but I was not exactly in a position to say so.

_I will not disrupt class... I will not disrupt class..._

"He he," I ignored Filch's wheezy chuckle and tried to focus, but that was getting more difficult to do by the second. My head was swimming and I was having trouble suppressing the trembling in my limbs. Too much blood lost. I checked the time again, expecting hours to have gone by. 1:55 -- this was getting ridiculous.

As much as I detested the idea of asking for a reprieve, my head was starting to throb in rhythm with my hand and my thoughts were going fuzzy. "Mr. Filch? Er, I kind of have to go to bed at some point. It's getting late."

He narrowed his beady eyes at me and growled, "You'll go when I tell ya you can go, and not a moment sooner! Now get back to it!"

"But sir, I -- "

"Quiet! Or do you want me to get Professor Dumbledore in here?" 2:01. A waste of time indeed. I put the quill back to the bloody parchment and went on.

At 3 o'clock on the dot, I dropped the quill with a huff and swung the book bag onto my shoulders, trying to ignore the way little red and green spots invaded my vision and the thunderous pounding that had started in my head.

"What do you think yer doing?" Filch snapped at me, standing up behind his desk.

"I am going to Madam Pomfrey," I stated calmly. "If I don't stop this bleeding soon, I'll pass out." I stumbled my way out of the room and tried to slam the door behind me but given my weakened state, I doubt that it had the same effect. If I didn't play this out perfectly and convince Headmaster Dumbledore that I had had no choice but to leave, I knew that I would find myself on the school train home faster than Snape could say "50 points from Gryffindor."

If only I could find the bloody hospital wing! But every corridor blended in with the next and after only -- what? -- fifteen minutes of fumbling through the darkened hallways, I tripped over my own feet and fell. And I couldn't get up. The world spun dizzyingly around me and I clutched at the stones in the wall, trying to find purchase. A strange heat flickered against my slick palms as I tried to get my bearings.

"Miss Moody!" Oh, Professor McGonagall couldn't have come at a more perfect time. The scene I made sprawled across the floor, clinging to the walls a disheveled mess must look exceptionally dramatic and diar. "What has happened to you? You shouldn't be out of bed at this hour!"

"I was in detention... with Filch," I mumbled. I wasn't _trying _to do this, but the fact that I sounded utterly pathetic right then would certainly be helpful when I was trying to dodge expulsion.

"Can you stand? Good Lord! What's happened to your hand?" McGonagall had seen it -- and quite the sight it was! The entire back of my hand had become a bloody mess, appearing ten times worse than it actually felt, but maybe that was just because I couldn't see straight anymore or the fact that I could no longer control my legs beneath her or the blackness that swept over my brain like a lusciously soft blanket...


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own none of the recognizable characters. Just borrowing.

A/N: This chapter seems a little short, but I can't write for very long at one time without getting distracted, so here it is. Review please! Oh and I don't have a beta to read this over so there my be some grammatical errors here and there.

The Book Man

Chapter 2

I stirred groggily, surrounded by warm linen sheets and with the distinct feeling that I hadn't been out for long at all. The back of my hand ached dully and had become strangely stiff over my time unconscious, but the throbbing headache was gone and in a moment, I felt perfectly aware. My eyes fluttered open and I swung my feet onto the floor to stand.

"Ah. Feeling better are we?" Madam Pomfrey came bustling out of her office, looking agitated. "I wrapped that up for you to stop the bleeding, but Professor Umbridge forbid any healing beyond that, so I suggest you soak it in murtlap essence or something similar if you ever land yourself another detention." She pursed her lips and muttered something which sounded distinctly like "barking mad" and started sifting through potions until she produced the murtlap essence. "Keep that hidden. Like I said, you're not allowed... Professor McGonagall wanted a word with you in her office, you're well enough to go but be careful with that hand; don't want to start it bleeding again now do we. Off you go."

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey." I called as I hurried out of the hospital wing and into the dark corridors. McGonagall answered her door immediately and ushered me inside, her lips quite thin and her nostrils flared.

"Mr. Filch tells me that you walked out of your detention at least three hours before I found you in that corridor. Explain."

My eyebrows came together in confusion. If what she was saying was true, then she had found me at around six o'clock in the morning and it should have been light out by now.

"Er, when exactly did you find me, Professor?"

"Half past three in the morning! What on earth were you doing out of bed at such a ridiculous hour?" She wasn't exactly yelling, but her voice exuded cold fury and disappointment.

"I left Filch's office at three: my hand..."

"That is _not _what Mr. Filch has told me --"

"But it's true! Listen, I had been cutting my hand open for hours and I _told _him that I needed the hospital wing! You don't think I did this on my own, do you?" I demanded, holding out my bandaged hand. The blood had seeped through in some places, staining the gauze with crimson blotches across the back of my hand.

"If you were on your way to the hospital wing, then what were you doing in the east corridor?"

"I got lost. Dizzy, you know?" McGonagall watched me for several agonizing seconds and then stood, indicating for me to do the same.

"You may go for now. I'll be speaking with Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake. And if I find that you didn't go straight to your dormitory, it'll be expulsion." I nodded, realizing that it was the best I could get from her, and went straight to Gryffindor tower, for once being a good girl. The Fat Lady was not happy.

"What's the excuse for waking me up at this time of night?"

"Sorry, I had detention._Mimbulus Mimbletonia."_

"If you must," she grunted, and swung forward to grant me entrance to the common room. I trudged up the steep, winding stairs until I reached the fifth year girls' dormitory and fell onto my bed, fully clothed. Unfortunately, my unrestrained _flop _woke another sleepy student: Hermione Granger, who pushed aside her curtains and sat on the edge of her bed, a horribly expectant look on her face.

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked suspiciously.

I snorted and sneered, "In case you've forgotten, I got a week's worth of detentions just like Potter did and _excuse me_for having no control over Filch's outrageous hours!" Hermione flinched and I felt a twinge of regret, but hey, it was fucking four o'clock in the morning and I was more than a little grouchy.

"But Harry got back hours ago, and he never mentioned you being in there."

"He's with Umbridge and I just said that I had Filch_, _so he wouldn't have seen me, would he?" I snapped, irritated. "I thought you were supposed to be bright." Hermione flushed but ignored the comment.

"Your hand -- so they're doing the same to you, I suppose. What does yours say?" I had no doubt about what she was talking about and didn't bother pretending.

_"I will not disrupt class with pointless opinions._ Right foul toad, isn't she?" Hermione nodded absently.

"Erm, about that -- I really wanted to thank you actually. For what you did. I can't believe the Ministry's being so stupid about this, they've got most of the world convinced he's just some mad liar and hardly anyone's willing to stand up for him anymore. So, thanks. And I _am_ sorry about you're hand."

"Well... you're welcome, I guess. Night," I pulled the curtains shut and rolled over, prepared to sleep until Monday if it came to that.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own none of the recognizable characters. Just borrowing.

A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I've had finals all week and haven't had a spare minute for all the studying. Anyway, enjoy!

The Book Man

Chapter 3

As it turned out, I did _not _get to sleep until Monday; a tiny finger prodded my shoulder somewhere around eight o'clock in the morning the next day, and I was slowly forced into consciousness. That didn't mean that I was happy about it.

"Go away," I mumbled, rolling away from the offending finger.

"Ciara Moody?" the girl asked hesitantly. Most likely a first year, maybe second, which meant that she had probably been sent by someone important.

"What d'you want?"

"P-Professor McGonagall wanted to speak to you in her office." she stuttered. I dragged my eyes open -- it felt like they weighed a ton! -- and finally resigned myself to my fate. The girl had dishwater blond hair and wide, brown eyes that were currently boring holes into my forehead. I pushed myself into a sitting position and grabbed my wand.

"What time is it?" I asked, sliding out of the bed and into a pair of ratty slippers.

"A little past eight. McGonagall wanted to see you right away." The girl hopped out of the way as I walked around to my trunk and started digging for clothes.

"Yeah, I figured as much. You can go." She turned and skipped out of the dormitory without a word. I dressed groggily, taking probably ten minutes longer than necessary, and stumbled down into the common room -- where I was ambushed by the Weasley twins.

"I don't have time for this, I have to go." I sighed, trying to end this conversation before it began. Needless to say, it didn't work.

"We heard that you walked out of a detention with Filch -- "

"Passed out right on top of McGonagall in a corridor in the middle of the night -- "

"And were expelled!" They waited expectantly, blocking the only path to the portrait hole.

"Well, you got two out of three... or two and a half maybe_. _I don't _think _I'm getting expelled, not yet anyway." I tried to shove my way between them fruitlessly and let out a huff of exasperation.

"Wicked!" exclaimed George. Or maybe it was Fred -- it was simply impossible to tell and I couldn't really care less at the moment.

"What'd Filch do?"

"Yelled at me, had a seizure, blabbed to McGonagall, and at this very moment is probably waiting impatiently for my expulsion -- which _will _happen if you two don't let me through."

"Well, we couldn't have that now, could we?" George/Fred grinned, but he and his twin stepped to the side and allowed me passage.

"See ya later, Moody." I hurried past them, ignoring the eager questions fired off from at least twenty other curious Gryffindor mouths, and darted down the corridor towards Professor McGonagall's office.

I rapped smartly on the door, just once, before I found myself face to face with the professor and poised to knock right on her chin. McGonagall pulled me non too gently inside the rather large office, and dropped me in a wooden, straight-backed chair. So this was how the game was going to be played, huh?

"It's been thirty minutes since you recieved my message. _What, _may I ask, have you been doing in all that time?" she demanded, sounding cool and distant. I hated to admit it, but this whole situation was rather intimidating, and I really considered for the first time the concept of my expulsion. Losing my magic was unthinkable.

"I was sleeping, ma'am." McGonagall briskly looked me up and down, her frown deepened, but she said nothing more of my lateness. Did I really look that bad?

"The headmaster will be joining us shortly. I met with him this morning to discuss last night's events and it seems that your actions, though a little rash, were justified." The expression on her face contradicted her words, something like worry and maybe a little pity. I didn't like to think about the implications there.

"So what's the problem, professor?" I asked politely.

"The Minister seems to disagree." For a moment, I was rendered incapable of coherent speech, sputtering out incomprehensible questions and phrases. It absolutely enraged me that the Ministry was going to try to expel me after Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, _and _Madame Pomfrey had all deduced that I was innocent.

A few minutes later, I found my voice again. "Am I going to be expelled?"

"It... is not likely. A possibilty, yes, but like I said: your actions were completely justified under the circumstances." And yet, she herself didn't seem convinced.

"Why do they care? If you and Dumbledore -- ?" Oh. Right. The Ministry was not very happy with Dumbledore right now... or anyone who followed him... or Harry Potter, who I had vouched for that day in that woman's class. That was why I was here, in danger of losing everything I cared about, not because I broke the school rules but because I had chosen sides and thrown my lot in with Dumbledore.

It wouldn't have been the same for anyone else, at least not anyone I knew of, but if I were expelled I really would lose everything. As I was Muggle-born, adopted by wizards from an orphanage at the age of six, once rejected by the wizarding community I would be sent back to the Muggles. It was possible that I would be adopted by a non-magical family at some point, but I would probably be spending the last three years before I became a legal adult in the old orphanage. It was an old law, from the middle ages when Muggle-borns were more discrimated against, but it had never been revised and now I would suffer the consequences. I was going to lose my family.

"But I didn't _do _anything!" I whispered, my composure quickly slipping away with each passing second. "I don't want to go!" McGonagall only looked sadly down at me, no words of comfort to calm me, or stifling closeness like hugs and such to tell me that everything was going to be alright. Because we both knew that I was about to lose everything.


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own none of the recognizable characters. Just borrowing.

A/N: Em... review please. It would be nice to hear some feedback from more than one person (thank you singerinthesilence!), I'm going to keep writing either way though *shrugs* I was debating whether or not to threaten a writers strike but I changed my mind. So here ya go!

Chapter 4

I could swear that the room was getting smaller, the walls closing in and spinning all around me. Professor McGonagall's voice reached me as if from a distance and I didn't really pay attention to the words. Somewhere inside me, I knew that I had to pull myself together and _think dammit!_ I was _not _going to go down without even fighting, and certainly not a blubbering mess... I hoped.

It was a struggle to control the sputtering gasps and sobs that burst from my throat of their own volition, and the corners of my eyes were starting to burn with tears, but somehow I managed to just shove it all down -- at least for the moment. Professor McGonagall was watching me with a sadness in her eyes that I didn't want to see. Didn't she know that she was only making it worse with all the pity? I pressed my palms to my eyes and took deep, shuddering breaths until I felt calm enough to look up.

"I'm fine." I heard myself say.

"You're sure, Miss Moody?" McGonagall asked quietly. God, she was making this so difficult, but it wasn't _her _fault -- it was Umbridge's and the Minister's. Or maybe it was my own, for not bothering to think about what I was doing before the deed was done. I was the one who told Umbridge off. I was the one who walked out of Filch's office. Granted, I had perfectly reasonable excuses on both occasions -- unless you're looking at it from an enemy's point of view; that's almost what the Ministry had become to me in just a few short days. I hated them, but I knew that I couldn't let that fact show too strongly on the outside, because Umbridge and Fudge held all the power right now.

Right little rebel I turned out to be.

"I -- yeah. Yes, I'm sure. So what -- what happens now?" Why was it so hard to string simple sentences together. _Get a grip! _I scolded myself.

"Albus is coming. He should actually be here any second now." McGonagall said, turning to look at the fireplace. There was a sudden flash of green flames (that I still had not managed to get used to after five years) and Professor Dumbledore stepped smartly out of the fireplace, embers still glowing a yellowish emerald. The man got straight to business, so that I hardly even had time to wonder at my first meeting with the powerful headmaster. At that moment, I felt sure that Fudge was going to lose whatever battle he had going with this wizard because a blustering little man with a bowler hat, Minister or not, could never take on someone so utterly... magical. But my moment to marvel was up, because Dumbledore was speaking.

"Fudge is not going to attend in person, but Dolores will be here in a moment to press the charges." Charges? What? That made me sound like some sort of criminal. "Ciara, just tell Professor Umbridge the truth and it should be enough. If it is not, we can always appeal -- I'm certain that the Wizengamot will take this case more seriously considering the circumstances." There was no hesitation whatsoever in the man's voice and he didn't even look at me. I wondered whether it meant that he thought me, a nobody and a student, beneath his attention and I felt a shadow of shame flicker in my chest for forcing him to deal with me. But no, that wasn't right. I shook my head, trying to clear it.

"No?" Dumbledore asked, blues eyes swiveling in my direction for the first time.

"No. I mean yes, I understand." On the last syllable, there were three impatient knocks on the door and everyone in the room turned to stare. McGonagall recovered a moment later.

"Enter." she called coldly. Umbridge pushed the door open daintily and stepped over the threshold with a wide, toad-like grin on her face that sent goosebumps up my arms. She wore a pink little dress and a matching scarf (nothing new: apparently pink is the color of evil), and her black silk fly, I mean bow, was still perched in her hair.

"Good morning, Headmaster, Miss Moody." she tittered, coming over to stand beside me. "I trust you all know why the Minister sent me here today?" There was no response, unless you count the fact that I edged several paces away from her in disgust. This did not faze her in the slightest. "Excellent! Now Miss Moody, I'd like a private word with you, dear. If you don't mind Headmaster." Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, but he nodded his consent and Professor Umbridge immediately pulled me out into the empty corridor. I prepared to try reason.

"Look, Professor, I'm sorry I walked out of that detention but I really had to get -- " but the woman interrupted me.

"Tut, tut. I don't want to hear any excuses: You broke the rules."

"But, I -- "

"Now, I will be willing to let you get off with only a week's worth of detentions if I find that you have... _learned your lesson."_ The way she said the last three words made me shiver. I said nothing, not having any idea of how to go about proving that I had 'learned my lesson' to this toad, and not wanting to ruin my only chance.

"I want you to apologize, Miss Moody." I stared dumbfounded. There was no way it could be that easy.

"Er, sorry." I said.

"And what are you sorry for, Miss Moody?" Crap. What she wanted was not a simple apology to prove that I had learned something, but for me to give in to her and her silly beliefs. She wanted me to apologize for believing that Voldemort had returned, and for supposedly befriending Harry Potter. But I wasn't going to make it that easy for her.

"I'm sorry for walking out of that detention. I already told you that." Umbridge raised her eyebrows at me and her bulging eyes flickered down to my bandaged hand.

"Ok," I said, rolling my eyes, "I'm also sorry for disrupting your class with my pointless opinions."

"My dear," Umbridge started, taking hold of both my clean and injured hand, squeezing tight, "I don't want to hear about all that. When you advocated Mr. Potter's stories in my classroom, you must have scared quite a few people. There is nothing to fear out there, and I want to hear you say it." _Bitch! _I silently screamed at her. The other choice words I had for her were just on the tip of my tongue, but if I wanted to stay at Hogwarts and keep my family, I would have to play her game.

"I'm sorry for saying those things." That was about all I could say. If she wanted me to get more specific, my pride would probably jump out of my head and claw her eyes out. For a moment, I was lost in the wonderful image.

"It's not true, is it?" she asked sweetly, but it wasn't really a question, "Dumbledore and Potter are lying, aren't they?"

I hesitated for just a short second, and whispered dejectedly, "I don't know." Her smile widened while her eyes seemed to attempt a comforting look, and she dropped my hands.

"Then I am afraid that -- "

"Wait!" I cried, heart thudding wildly in my chest. "I -- yes! I think they're lying!" I knew it didn't really matter, but I crossed my fingers behind my back, if only just to spite her.

"Good," she simpered, "very good, my dear. Detention in my office next Monday." Umbridge turned on her heel and left me standing there in the corridor, suppressing the intense urge to leap after her and curse her into oblivion. I wanted to cry and scream and rage, because I hated that I had let her win. She hadn't given me a choice though. _Potter wouldn't have done it regardless of if he was facing expulsion, _a nasty little voice hissed inside my head. Great, so now I was going insane too.


End file.
